


The Easiest Lie

by messier51



Series: Tired Tropes [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Con Job, Love Letters, M/M, Margrave Castiel, POV Castiel, Princess Anna, Royalty, betrothal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messier51/pseuds/messier51
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is finally going to meet the Grand Duke's son: the young man he's been betrothed to marry. Cas never expected he'd get to marry for love, but this job isn't exactly what he had in mind, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Easiest Lie

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr [here](http://messier51.tumblr.com/post/120397614507/betrothed-royalty-in-a-vaguely-mediaeval-european) for the [tired tropes](http://messier51.tumblr.com/post/120138934007/ceeainthereforthat-defilerwyrm-why-settle) prompt: "betrothed royalty in a vaguely mediaeval-European fantasy setting."

Dean Winchester is so excited about marriage that he’s sent one letter a month since the day he turned 16. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, each hope and dream detailed in almost-tidy penmanship: a partner to share love and devotion with, a home and estates to run together, the children they will raise and every optimistically foolish plan the boy comes up with.

Forty-nine well-read letters sit in the basket on Castiel’s writing desk. He’s got the fiftieth unopened and crumpled in his clenched fist, rethinking the entire con. Last minute morality isn’t enough to stop almost ten years of work, all it’s going to do is make the last week hard as fuck.  

The door of Cas’ chamber whispers open, and Anna clumsily plops herself down on the bed, and raises her eyebrow. She’s got her hair slicked back in a much-less-noticeable hue of black than her normal red, and she’s been practicing different gaits and altering her body language throughout the last month. They won’t be ready to play the lost princess card until they have an estate to run it from.

“Did you read your letter yet, _Margrave_? Michael wants your final assessment and to run through the entire plan one more time before we leave. Uriel’s already in there with him, looking stormy as ever, and Rachel and Inias have all of your worldly goods loaded into the finest carriage they could steal.”

Cas smiles. The accent she’s affected isn’t quite right for a nurse, but no one in this region will ever know. Castiel brandishes the letter, unopened.

“Which part are we going over? I’m leaving to get married. Don’t you know better? You’re supposed to leave me to my moody seclusion.” The light airy tone is supposed to sound noble and jovial. It falls flat to Cas’ ears.

Anna snorts. “You’re not getting married, Cas. This is why we need to go over the plan.”

“Oh no, that’s right, I’m going to meet the young and impressionable _Grand Ducal Highness_ , make his every hope and dream,” Cas waves the unopened letter in Anna’s direction, “pale in comparison with the ‘real’ life we’re going to create, I will manipulate him into signing the landed title forms with me before any other legally binding motions can be made, before I betray him so utterly that he’ll run back to his parents, absolving me of our betrothal and leaving me in my heartbroken confusion with only my new landed title. Woe is me.”

“What are you going to do?” Anna ignores Cas’ dramatic attempts to drive her away.

“What do you mean?” Cas asks carefully.

“Last time I saw that look on your face, a local official _conveniently found_ one of our stashes, and the Viscountess Bradbury got to build the school she’d always wanted. You’re not exactly subtle, _brother_.”

That had been phase one. There’d been plenty of margin for error. That’s not the case anymore.

“You will get your duchy, _your grace_. I know my place. I’m sure you and Michael can manage the final details without me.”

Anna hoists herself from the bed, and floats over to Cas, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay to let yourself like the kid. It will be easier that way.” Or, as the man who’d raised them had said, _the easiest lie is the true one_. Castiel’s Margrave title (despite his lack of land) and Anna’s princess schtick, those were real. Those were the ante.

Anna shambles to the door and almost trips over her own feet at the slightly uneven doorjamb. “Inias will come for you when it’s time to go. Make sure you bring your love letters.”

Alone again with his letters, Cas runs his thumb across the curved antlers of the antelope pressed into the wax seal before breaking it. He wonders, as he opens the letter, what sort of sigil Dean dreams of taking for his own house.

 

> _Dearest Castiel,_
> 
> _My excitement will betray me, as this letter is too short and too soon. In preparation of the following weeks, I’ve been given your name and history. I’ve been allowed to send you letters for years now, and have as such, been allowed the mistake of thinking only of dreams and plans of my own. I apologize._
> 
> _Everything else I have to say can wait to be said in person._
> 
> _Yours,  
>  Dean Winchester_

Cas smoothes the wrinkles out of the letter before folding it back up and placing it gently on the stack. As he dresses himself to the best of his abilities (Inias will help with the finishing touches) he lets himself dream. Anna is right. For now, this is simpler.


End file.
